Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“What’s the hardest name list you’ve ever been asked to put together?” Jay asks.
“Ooh, this is tough. Someone asked for a list inspired by national parks. I thought that would’ve been easy, but I struggled with it for a while. Oh! One lady gave me her grandmother’s name, which was four names that didn’t go together, and asked me to give her ten combinations of names inspired by that. There’s only so much you can do with Maude Brandy Sheila Cooke.”
Jay smiles.
“What about you?” I ask. “What’s the hardest job you’ve ever done?”
“It has more to do with the customer than it does the actual job. I can build pretty much anything, and I enjoy a challenge. So the harder something is technically, the more likely I am to like it. But sometimes you get a customer that asks for something they think they want. You build it to spec, and then they hate it. Then they don’t want to pay. That’s when things get tense. It’s people, man. People are the hard part of everything.”
“True, because I wanted to be a hairstylist for about five seconds in high school. That lasted until one day when I was in a salon getting my hair colored and a woman came in and handed a stylist a picture of a celebrity. She was determined that she was going to get that specific cut. The stylist kept trying to gently convince her it wasn’t a good idea, but she insisted. So the stylist cut it and the lady bawled. She thought she was going to look just like Angelina Jolie and was distraught that she didn’t.”
Jay starts to respond, but his attention is drawn over my shoulder. His features shift into an amused annoyance. Before I can turn to investigate, a bubbly, college-aged girl appears at our table.
“Hey, Jay,” she says, obviously teasing my man. A laugh is on the tip of her tongue as she turns to me. “Hi! I’m Taylor. Welcome to Betty Lou’s, and I have to mention how freaking pretty you are.”
“Wow.” My face heats as I look at a smirking Jay. “Um, thank you, Taylor. That’s really unexpected but also very kind.”
She smiles. “I’m going to be honest.”
“Taylor . . .” Jay says, sighing.
She ignores him. “I’ve been trying to set Jay up with my boyfriend’s mother for months, and he’s turned me down every single time. He doesn’t even consider it. Lark gives him hell about it, too, but Jay has rudely blown me off without a thought.” She stands taller. “Now I see why.”
He turned her down?
Jay crosses his arms over his chest and watches me.
“Jay, my guy, I get it and I’m sorry,” Taylor says. “Can I get you two anything to drink?”
“Water with lemon, please,” I say.
“Make it two—with less commentary next time, please,” Jay says.
Taylor laughs all the way to the kitchen.
My curiosity is piqued, and I lean against the table, ready to dig in. But before I can say a word, Jay leans forward too.
We’re separated by the napkin dispenser and a small space of laminated tabletop. Lunch patrons buzz around us. But the look in Jay’s eyes makes the outside world disappear, and it might just be the greatest feeling of all time.
“So,” I say, grinning. “You’re getting hooked up on the side, huh?”
“You heard her. She said that I’ve turned her down for months.”
“Why? Have you seen the mom? Is she not your type?”
He reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “I don’t need to see her to know she’s not my type.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because,” he says, staring at our connected palms, “I met this woman recently. And since then, she’s all I’ve been able to think about. Granted, sometimes it’s because she’s driving me nuts.”
I laugh, squeezing his hand in mine.
He smiles. “But she’s the only woman that’s caught my interest in a long damn time. Hell, I didn’t even want to be interested in her but couldn’t help myself.”
“She must be amazing.”
“She is. And every day we spend together, I hope there’s another one to follow. She says she wants to live again.” His smile fades into the shy grin that melts my heart. “But I didn’t even realize I wasn’t living until I met her.”
The bridge of my nose pinches like it does just before tears flood my eyes. How does he do that? His words touch me in a way he’ll never understand. It’s not only because I know this is difficult for him to share but also because he’s slowly proving to be the kind of man I was too scared to even dream about.
I was content in my marriage to Christopher. He was kind, responsible, and dependable. Loyal. He was an amazing father. We had great conversations and chose vacation spots with ease. I was proud to be his wife.